P.S. You're a Daddy!

by Dianne Drake

  “My grandfather is engaged in a game of checkers with one of the kids downstairs, trying to keep Janice from having an asthma attack herself she’s so stressed. And, no, I wasn’t worried about you using an asthma drug. I’m glad you took the call. I was out seeing Mrs. Gardner. She’s close to seventy, her husband died recently, and she occasionally has rough nights being alone...panic attacks. Apparently she’s in a dead zone for cell reception.”

  “But she’s better?”

  Beau nodded. “For tonight. And Lucas?”

  She glanced at Lucas, who was staring out the window next to the bed. “It wasn’t a serious attack but Janice wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

  Beau motioned Deanna into the hall. Lowering his voice, he said, “And she’s not going to let Lucas stay here any longer.”

  “I guessed that’s where this was leading so somebody will have to call Social Services.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. When we leave here in a little while, Lucas is going with us. Janice won’t keep him, not even for the rest of the night.”

  “What will we do with him?”

  Beau shrugged. “I’m hoping you’ll take him until morning.”

  “Me?” She didn’t know how to take care of a child outside her capacity as a nurse. She had no idea what a three-year-old was about, unless someone wanted a dissertation on the anatomical structure of a three-year-old. But surrogate mother duties? They were coming soon enough to her and she didn’t want to bring that deadline forward until she’d learned more, read more, watched more videos. “I think he’d be better off with you.”

  “He’s responding to you. Look at him, he’s watching you, not me.”

  It was true. He was. “But, Beau, I...” She shook her head. “I can’t...”

  “Sure you can. Just pretend it’s three years from now and this is your child who needs to be cared for.”

  Caring for Emily’s baby three years in the future...that’s the thought that calmed her down, made her realize that motherhood was going to be thrust upon her one way or another, and very soon. So why not get some pre-mothering in now? “The cabin does have one bedroom for kids. I suppose I could manage it for the rest of the night.”

  “Possibly part of tomorrow.”

  She looked back in at Lucas, who was still staring at her. Big blue eyes so lost it broke her heart, curly blond hair so cute she wanted to tousle it. As she watched him for few moments, something stirred in her, something profound and unexpected because, suddenly, all she wanted to do was take him back to the cabin and tuck him into bed. No more hesitation, no more worry.

  The mothering instinct welling in her was turning fierce, and doing so very quickly. Sure, it was the batting back and forth of her hormones but that didn’t change what she wanted, which was having that little boy in her arms. “How can that happen so fast?” She asked, not meaning to say it out loud.

  “What?” Beau asked.

  “The way my switch turns on and off. One minute I can’t take him home, the next minute I want to so badly I’m about ready to knock you over to get to him.”

  He chuckled. “One of the beautiful things about pregnancy is it’s unpredictable.”

  “Guess that’s good because I do want to take him. But they’ve got to find his family, Beau, because he needs to be settled in.” A feeling she remembered having about something she’d never had when she’d been a child. Still didn’t, even now.

  “Then I’ll make sure the proper authorities know where he is.”

  “How did you know we were here?” she asked, before she went back to gather up Lucas and his few belongs that had been salvaged from the car wreck.

  “Got myself out of the dead zone.”

  “Well, you need a better way to communicate if you’re going to wander around the mountains at night, or any other time. I was worried. Oh, and by the way, I had a little talk with your grandfather about some practical matters regarding the medical practice.”

  “And?”

  “He’s not talking to me right now, but he didn’t thump me with his cane either, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

  Beau reached across, brushed her cheek with his thumb and smiled. But he didn’t respond so to fill in the awkward silence between them, she continued, “Anyway, let me go grab Lucas and get him out to the car. And round up Joey and your grandpa, too.”

  “Joey’s already taken the horse back to the stables...short cut through the woods. So you’re stuck with me.”

  Stuck with Beau...there were times that didn’t sound so bad. But that didn’t block out the fact that she’d tossed and turned for three hours because the only thing looping through her mind had been one terrifying question: what would it be like to stay here and be close to Beau? Or even, in some distant part of the wildest of imaginations, be with Beau.

  Because, yes, she was falling for him. Which was giving way to senseless notions and absurd schemes as there was still one huge obstacle to overcome—telling him that the baby she was having was his. However was that going to work out?

  Right now, she just didn’t know.

  * * *

  “OK, Brax is settled back at the house and Lucas is tucked in upstairs. So what about you? Are you ready to be tucked in?”

  “Again. Tucked in again,” she said. Too tired to trudge into the bedroom, she slumped into the overstuffed sofa in front of the fireplace. “I was tucked in before.”

  “No doubt sleeping like a baby.”

  “No doubt,” she said, yawning. “But I’m going to stay up for a while, in case Lucas wakes up. He’s in a strange bed, in a strange house, staying with people he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t understand it because his world has changed into a big, scary place. So I want to stay close by.” She smiled. “Be a little over-protective.”

  “That’s the natural instinct you were afraid you didn’t have,” he said, smiling.

  She stifled a yawn and laughed. “I hope you’re right. Especially for Lucas right now. I mean, I know what’s it like to wake up in the middle of the night and be so scared you don’t know what to do, and you don’t have anybody to turn to. Which is why I’ll stay up, in case Lucas wakes up.”

  “Which is why I’ll stay up,” Beau corrected. “You’re exhausted, and you need the rest. And before you think you can win this argument, you’re sleeping for two.”

  “Not fair,” she said.

  He smiled as he extended a hand to help her up off the sofa. “All’s very fair. You came to Sugar Creek for one reason, and I’m taking up all your time with things I’m supposed to be doing. The least I can do is let you sleep the rest of the night, uninterrupted. Oh, and sleep late in the morning as well. Doctor’s orders.”

  The feel of his hand was so...so comforting. Smooth. Strong. His kiss, his touch... This was getting serious now. And she was too confused to figure out how to handle it. So, for the moment, she wouldn’t. “Well, if the doctor insists,” she forced herself to say as she moved past him, refusing to do so much as even look up at him.

  “The doctor insists. And, Deanna...”

  “Yes?” Approaching the stairs, she stopped and finally looked into his eyes. But he didn’t say anything. He simply smiled, then nodded.

  And what she’d known only moments earlier was now confirmed. She’d gone and done the wrong thing. The worst thing. The most stupid thing. Yet the most wonderful... Except now she had to figure out a way to undo it. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” she said, then turned, practically flew up the stairs and shut the bedroom door behind her. Locked it. Yet still felt more vulnerable than she’d ever felt in her entire life.

  Yes, she had to figure out a way to undo the mess. And undo it fast.

  * * *

  Beau watched Lucas, who sat at the breakfast table much too quietly for a todd
ler. His heart ached for the little boy but physically there was nothing wrong with him and emotionally nothing he could do for him. He felt powerless and discouraged. He hated seeing anyone suffer this way, but watching a child going through this was the worst.

  He’d known abandonment himself—the death of his mother, a father who had wandered in and out, a wife who’d had her own agenda. In an adult way he understood these things, understood the pain they’d caused him. But Lucas had no basis for understanding, no basis for knowing what the awful pain meant.

  “At that age you loved to ride with me,” Brax commented. He’d come up to the cabin for breakfast earlier, at Beau’s invitation. “In fact, every time I walked out the door, you were hanging on my leg, begging me to take you on a horsey ride.”

  Beau remembered that. “And that little horsey song you’d sing to me.” If I had a horsey, you know what I’d do? It had been a purely a made-up little song to soothe a distressed child, but it had been Brax’s cure for all those times Beau’s dad had dropped him off for an hour or two and hadn’t come back to get him for a week or two.

  “The horses cured so many things for me. Made things seem better. And you always saw that, didn’t you?” They’d given him the confidence his dad had taken from him. Confidence and purpose. But all that had really come from Brax.

  “Well, I saw how you always lit up when you saw them so I used some common sense.”

  “More than common sense, Brax. Way more than common sense.” Impulsively, he crossed the room to his grandfather and gave the man a hug, then a kiss on the cheek. No words. Just the loving gesture. “I don’t know if Lucas has ever seen a horse. According to his parents’ identification, they were from Chicago, and the last time I was there, I don’t recall seeing any horses within city limits, so maybe this will be a good experience for him.”

  The way it had been a good experience for Beau. “But maybe you could take him down to the stables later, like you used to do for me?”

  “Me? Are you sure about that?”

  Beau chuckled. “You have a way with children, old man, so don’t push it, OK?”

  “Me, push anything? Not a chance, but you’d better watch it because that nurse you hired is the pushy one. Damned pushy.”

  Beau simply shook his head then grabbed two glasses of orange juice and carried them over to the table.

  “So, does anybody know what the boy’s parents were doing here?” Brax asked.

  “According to the police report, they’d rented a cabin for a couple of weeks, but somewhere closer to the North Carolina border.”

  “Damn shame what happened. And you said the authorities haven’t turned up any relatives yet?”

  Beau shook his head on his way back to the stove to grab the platter of fresh pancakes he’d just cooked and carry them over to the table. “Not yet. But they’re still looking.” Then, under his breath, he said, “Hope they find someone soon. I don’t like the idea of him having to go into foster-care, but that’s what might happen.”

  “No way in hell!” Brax snapped, also under his breath. “That boy needs family who care about him. And if they think they’re going to put him in the guardian home or with a foster-family...no way in hell!” he snapped again. “I’ve got a big house and he’s welcome there.”

  He picked up the maple syrup container, took it to the table, sat down then slathered more maple syrup on his stack of pancakes than one human being had a right to eat at any one sitting.

  “I mean it, Beau. I’m not too old to take care of him, if that’s what it comes down to.” Then he scooted a plate with one pancake on it towards Lucas and placed the syrup bottle next to it. “Losing a parent is a tragedy, but being all alone...” He shook his head. “I’m not going to allow the boy to face that with strangers.”

  “Seriously, you’d let him stay with you?” he asked, thinking back to all those times he’d been the little boy abandoned on the side of the road with his blanket and told to walk down the driveway until he got to his grandfather’s house.

  It had been a short walk, maybe just a quarter of a mile, but to a scared five-year-old dragging his blanket down that dusty drive it had turned into the longest walk in the world. And he’d been dumped out of his father’s car to take that walk so many times. But Brax had always been there to take him in.

  “I’d let him stay with us, Beau. Us, because we both understand...”

  Both men watched quietly for a moment as Lucas looked at the pancake then tentatively picked up the syrup bottle and mimicked Brax by pouring on way too much. But that’s all he did. Once the syrup was dripping over the edges of the plate, Lucas put the syrup bottle back on the table and simply stared at the drippy, sticky mess. Didn’t attempt to eat it, didn’t even attempt to play in it, which caused Beau even more worry. At that age what child could, or would, resist playing in such a puddle of goop?

  “If they were looking for my relatives,” Deanna said on her way down the stairs, “they wouldn’t turn up anybody, because I don’t have anybody. Maybe some very distant cousins but nobody close enough to be considered real family. I wondering if that could be the case here. Hope it isn’t, though.”

  “Thought you were going to sleep late,” Beau said, diverting his attention to Deanna for a moment and noticing the way the morning sun streamed in through the window and framed her every step down the stairs. She was the picture of perfect grace and beauty, and he couldn’t help but stare.

  Feelings for the little boy, feelings for the pregnant nurse...domesticity was practically strangling him this morning. The implication of it made the first few bites of pancakes turn into lumps of cement in his gut. What the hell was he doing, anyway?

  “For me, this is late. Besides, I smelled some mighty fine aromas floating up the stairs, and it’s not every day I find someone in my kitchen cooking for me.” She acknowledged Brax with a smile then looked at Lucas, who was simply staring at his pancake.

  “Someday, Lucas,” she said, as she approached the massive, hand-carved pine log table, “you’re going to want to impress a lady, and cooking for her is a nice way to do that. But not with so much syrup.”

  She reached over to take away his plate but he grabbed it out of her hands and moved it right back to the spot in front of him. He didn’t say a word but the angry look he gave her spoke volumes.

  “Our guest seems to have a temper,” Beau commented, setting another plate with a stack of pancakes on the table and gesturing for Deanna to sit.

  “Well, if he insists on keeping that pancake, he’s going to have to eat it. So, can you cut it up yourself, Lucas, or do you want me to do that for you?” Before the boy had a chance to answer, if he’d even been inclined to answer, Deanna took his fork and cut several bite-sized pieces then paused to see if he had any reaction. None, outside of watching, so she handed him the fork to see what he’d do.

  The answer to that came in about two seconds when he hurled the fork across the room. Two seconds later the plate followed, spilling pancake and syrup and shattering the plate into thousands of tiny glass shards. Which left Beau and Deanna staring at each other, clearly wondering what to do, while Brax ignored the whole thing and simply continued to eat.

  And Lucas...again there was no response, except for the huge tears rolling down his face.

  Instinctively, Deanna scooped him up into her arms, cradled him and rocked him as his silent tears turned into sobs that racked his tiny body.

  Nobody in the kitchen said a word. Beau simply stood there, feeling more helpless than he could ever remember feeling, and even Brax quit eating when the lump in his own throat grew so large he couldn’t swallow.

  “Shh,” Deanna whispered to Lucas as she stroked his hair. “It’s going to be all right, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  No, it wasn’t. Beau knew that for Lucas Dempsey nothing
was going to be right for a long, long time, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. But bless Deanna for stepping in the way she was. He was holding onto her for dear life. And somehow he didn’t think Lucas was going to have to come and stay with him and Brax. He was already where he was going to stay for the next little while.

  “You’re safe here, Lucas,” she continued. “Beau and Brax and I are going to take good care of you.”

  “Or just Deanna,” Beau said.

  “Why just me?”

  “Because he’s responding to you and you’re responding to him. Because you’re turning into a nurturer, and he needs nurturing. Because doing the family thing isn’t for me. Take your pick.”

  Because it all scared him to death—getting attached, having it ripped away. He wanted what was best for Lucas and he’d absolutely take him in, if that’s what it came down to, but the noose of domesticity was getting even tighter and Deanna’s affection for the boy was the solution. So why not take advantage of it? It was good for her, good for the boy...perfect situation that would let him breathe freely again.

  Deanna gave him a curious look but didn’t say anything. She simply stared at him like she was staring at a stranger.

  “What?” he finally asked.

  “Nothing. Just...” She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Was it his imagination or did Deanna look...sad? Maybe even a little angry, although she was trying hard to hide it. “It’s best for Lucas,” he finally said.

  She nodded, didn’t speak.

  “And you know Brax and I will do whatever we can to help you.”

  Again a nod but no words.

  “Better not open your mouth again, son,” Brax warned. “You’ve already got both feet in it, don’t think there’s room for anything else, like that crow I think you’re about to have to eat.”

  “I was just saying—”

  “That’s the problem,” Brax continued, “So quit just saying while you’re ahead. Actually, you’re not ahead, so quit saying it before you fall any further behind.”